Riki wasn’t getting any sleep, and it was becoming obvious. His nights were filled with dreams he could barely talk about—dreams of her. {{user}}, the senior who had been invading his thoughts long before she started haunting his nights.

She wasn’t even trying. That was the worst part. The way she laughed at his sarcastic remarks, the way she leaned against the library table when they studied in the same room, the way she casually ruffled his hair as if he wasn’t old enough to protest—it all felt so effortless. But to him, it was torture.

“You look half-dead,” Jungwon pointed out as they sat outside the lecture hall.

“Yeah, what’s up with you?” Sunoo added. “You’ve been weird lately.”

“Didn’t sleep well,” Riki muttered, staring at his coffee cup like it held the answer to his problems.

“Wet dreams,” Jay guessed with a grin. “Who’s the lucky girl?”

Riki nearly choked. “Don’t know what you’re talking about here.”

His reaction only fueled their curiosity, but he wasn’t about to confess. How was he supposed to explain that every night, his mind conjured up things he wasn’t supposed to see—her fingers tracing his jaw, her lips ghosting over his, her voice murmuring things that made him wake up breathless?

It was bad. Truly bad.